


Learn to Let the River Flow

by TheFandomLesbian



Series: The Blind Supreme AU [4]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, blind supreme AU, foxxay - Freeform, not season eight compliant, raulson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23036272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFandomLesbian/pseuds/TheFandomLesbian
Summary: Wedding plans have gone awry ever since Misty forgot to propose to Cordelia. Having had enough, they decide to make a break for it and head to the courthouse.
Relationships: Misty Day/Cordelia Foxx | Cordelia Goode
Series: The Blind Supreme AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1244075
Comments: 16
Kudos: 48





	Learn to Let the River Flow

**Author's Note:**

> I have had so many requests for another installment of the Blind Supreme AU wherein these two finally tie the knot. I am not a wedding person (sorry, I think weddings irl and in fiction are a slow death :P), but I decided I would please the masses. Hope this satisfies that itch! 
> 
> I'm also now accepting prompts again, so if you'd like to leave one in the comments or on my Tumblr @thefandomlesbian please feel free!

Cordelia sighed as she sank down over her desk, burying her face into her hands. Her hair drifted down around her head.  _ This can’t be happening. _ Even her  _ eyes _ hurt, as if from strain, and she knew that was downright impossible. But she hadn’t had a break in three weeks, since the school released for the summer and most of the students headed back to their respective homes to share what they had learned with their families. She had hoped the lack of classes would give her and Misty more time, but instead, it had left her with piles of paperwork legitimizing them as an educational institute in Louisiana—without this, claimed the state, her students had no shot of getting into college because they wouldn’t have a high school diploma.  _ I never should’ve done this. It’s too much work.  _

“Delia?” Misty called. “How long has it been since April was taken outside?” She knocked twice on the office door and stuck her head inside. “Boy, you look like something the cat dragged in. The Braille spells not working?” 

“I wish they weren’t,” Cordelia breathed, lifting her head up from her desk. She blinked a few times. “Sorry, I’m just—I’m just frustrated. I don’t know, it’s been awhile, she was following me around whenever I got too close to the stairs. She needs her dinner, too.”  _ I need my dinner.  _ Cordelia swallowed. Her dry throat crackled. How long had it been since she had a drink of water? She couldn’t remember. She was exhausted and was no closer to legitimizing them as a high school in the state of Louisiana than she had been two hours ago. 

Misty clicked her tongue, and April rose from under the desk and trotted over to her. “The girls are going out for the next couple of days. Florida, I think. Anyway, it’s just us over the weekend. Didn’t know if you wanted to make plans.” 

“Blech. Plans. Whatever happened to spontaneity?” 

Misty cackled. “That’s my girl.” She patted Cordelia on the shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “I’m taking April to potty. I’m locking you in so you don’t get lost and fall down the stairs.” Cordelia rolled her eyes, and she affectionately shooed Misty away, picking up her pen.  _ I don’t know why I try. My handwriting has got to be complete garbage now.  _ She could never tell how much space she was putting between the letters, no matter how much she tried. 

The office door clicked closed and then locked as Misty and April headed downstairs; Cordelia could hear Misty’s soft, nearly silent footsteps on the staircase. Cordelia stacked her papers on top of one another and pushed them to the corner of her desk.  _ We were supposed to get married this summer.  _ But all of the planning had gotten pushed to the side before they had even found a venue or set a date. They had gotten a marriage license. They had purchased the rings.  _ I don’t even remember where we put them.  _ Cordelia sucked in her lower lip. Was she already a terrible wife? She was older now. She had more responsibilities on her plate. She was blind. Things took longer. Misty understood that. She had to give Misty that—Misty was understanding, where Hank would’ve lost his mind by now. Cordelia would’ve been bending over backward to please Hank; she didn’t have to worry about that with Misty.  _ Maybe I should be worrying more. I need to try to make more time for her. Like setting a wedding date… It’s too late to try to host it this year, we should try to look for a date for next year.  _

She had a date book for the next year started. Of course, its contents pertained to the school, the coven, the counsel. It contained nothing personal, nothing about Misty. “God, I hate planning.” There was no way she could plan  _ everything _ , and the coven had to take precedent. If it didn’t, she would have a whole clan of unhappy witches without high school diplomas unable to get into college, or worse, all of their parents angry with her for not giving their children an appropriate education. She licked around the corners of her mouth. “At this rate, we’re never going to be married.” 

The thought landed on her mind, and then it latched on there, refusing to leave. She frowned. “Whatever happened to spontaneity?” she asked herself again, aloud. They  _ had _ the marriage license. The courthouse took wedding parties. It would be cheap. It wouldn’t require any  _ planning. _ And then it would be done! “And then it would be done?” she repeated aloud to herself, biting her inner cheek. “I don’t think that’s how we should start our marriage…” Didn’t she want a big party? She had wanted one with Hank. She had wanted to show everyone how normal they were… especially Fiona. 

But Fiona was gone, and the world knew, now, exactly how not-normal she was. Misty had never wanted a big party in the first place; she never would have said so, but Cordelia could tell from her aloof, disinterested behavior that she had less invested in a huge wedding than she wanted to let on.  _ It’s not like either of us has any family, and we see everyone else almost every day.  _ No, she realized now, an ostentatious wedding would only waste time and money. They knew they loved each other, and so did the rest of the coven. Why put so much effort in a huge wedding to hear things they already knew? They could save that for their marriage, for the future of their relationship. She had saved nothing with Hank, because there had been nothing to save. She wanted the  _ show _ because that was their relationship: a sensational theatrical performance. 

There was nothing to perform with Misty, and Cordelia couldn’t say she wanted to be at the center of any more stages for the rest of her life, except for the love they shared for one another. “That’s it.” Cordelia pushed herself back from the desk. “We’re getting married.” She turned on her heel and found the doorknob… locked. “Damn. Misty! Misty, come let me out!” She rattled the door in its frame, but she didn’t dare try to open it with magic—if she fell down the stairs now, it would scare Misty. She had gone months without a fall, since they’d gotten April, and she couldn’t go back on that in her haste. “Misty!”

Misty’s footsteps struck the staircase again, firmer this time as she ascended in a hurry to reach her. “Cordelia?” She unlocked the door and opened it. “What’s wrong? We just came inside—I told you you were locked in.” April panted faintly. Misty paused. “You got a really bizarre look on your face, duckweed.” 

“We’re getting married.” Cordelia blurted it out.  _ Maybe I should’ve asked her first.  _ But it was too late; the words had escaped. 

Silence. Misty cocked her head. “Uh… yeah, we discussed it, but it’s not happening this year. What’s the matter? You figure you need an annulment or something?”

“I—what? No, why would I need an annulment?” Misty shrugged, making a vague, noncommittal noise. “No—we’re  _ getting married.  _ Let’s go do it. Right now.” She could  _ feel _ the side-eyed look Misty gave her. “I said it, right? Planning sucks. I love you, you love me—I want you to be my wife, and I’m tired of all this other shit getting in the way!” She gesticulated ambiguously in the air. “The courthouse doesn’t close for two more hours. They’ve got walk-in weddings seven days a week. We have the marriage license! That’s all we really need.” She darted forward with her arms outstretched, stumbling over April and falling into Misty’s arms. 

Misty spun her around and laughed in spite of herself, tilting Cordelia backward in a clumsy dance move. “What brought this on? I thought you wanted My Big Fat Witchy Wedding up in here!” 

Cordelia flung her arms around Misty’s neck. “That’s not what I want! I don’t care! I already had the biggest wedding I could’ve dreamed of—and it sucked! It was terrible!” She was breathless. “And it’s not about me— _ you _ don’t want a wedding, either, do you?” 

Another nonchalant noise followed from Misty. “I wasn’t sold on the idea, but I kinda figured the bodacious stuff was up your alley. You’re the bride, and I’m…” She drifted off. “I’m realizing I probably should’ve stopped calling myself the groom awhile ago.”

Cordelia froze. “You’ve been calling yourself my  _ groom? _ ” she repeated, astonished. 

“Well… yeah. I started calling  _ you _ my bride, but I guess I ended up taking it a little too far.”

“To how many people?”

Misty snorted, a high-pitched, nervous chuckle attached to her voice. “All of them.” Cordelia’s face broke out into a grin, and she cackled, trying to muffle her laughter into Misty’s shoulder. “Oh, c’mon, it’s not that funny.” She held Cordelia back at arm’s length. “The point is, the wedding isn’t that important to me. I’m more concerned with what happens afterward.” 

Cordelia paused. “The sex?”

Brow quirking, Misty said, “The  _ marriage _ , you horn-dog.” She swatted Cordelia on the butt. “But I’m looking forward to the sex, too, I think.” She grinned, and she dipped down into a soft kiss. 

Pressing her hands against Misty’s shoulders, Cordelia pushed her back. “So you don’t care about a wedding.  _ I  _ don’t care about a wedding. Why are we bothering with a wedding? Who are we really going to invite, anyway? Everyone here already knows. It’s not new to anybody by any means. Why would we waste that much time when we want to be wives?” 

“Because,” Misty said quietly, “you wanted My Big Fat Witchy Wedding until about three minutes ago, and I don’t want you to marry me on some whim that you should be spontaneous.” A desperate frown sank onto Cordelia’s face. “You’re just bored of paperwork.”

Cordelia’s lip curled. She tried to stifle it. “I am not going to marry you just because I’m bored of paperwork! You and I both know that paperwork boredom is cured by good sex.” Misty snorted, nodding along in agreement. Cordelia could be candid, knowing the house was empty; she missed being able to be so  _ frank _ . “No, I  _ don’t _ want a party wedding. I want a marriage. I just had to realize that. And I’m not wasting another minute being your girlfriend when I want to be your wife. Let’s suit up and get to the courthouse!”

Misty was becoming more lenient, but she still wasn’t completely sold. “Are you sure this is what you want? A courthouse wedding? Don’t you think that’s a little tacky, even for us?”

“If I decide I hate it, we can always have a party to celebrate later. Lots of people do that.” 

Listening closely, Cordelia could nearly hear the gears turning in Misty’s head.  _ Say yes, say yes, say yes.  _ Misty’s mouth opened. “I agree, but…” 

“But?”

“I can see you.” Cordelia’s mouth opened, hanging there in confusion for a moment. “I’m not supposed to be able to see the bride before the wedding. At least, after you’ve gotten changed into wedding clothes.”

“What wedding clothes?”

“Whatever clothes you decide! I can’t see you in them until it’s time to get married. It’ll kill our relationship if I do.” 

“Nothing is going to  _ kill our relationship _ —I was just going to wear these clothes.”

“You can’t wear these clothes.”

“Why not? Because you saw them?  _ I  _ can’t even see them!”

“Well, yeah, but also because they really don’t match that well. I mean, they’re fine for paperwork at home, but probably not for our wedding.” 

“So you can’t see the clothes until we’re at the altar, but you’re going to judge me based on how well they match?” Misty paused at Cordelia’s proposition. She was being thoughtful—dammit, she was so thoughtful, Cordelia rolled her eyes, laughing to herself. “C’mon. You can pick out the outfit. As long as it’s not on me, it doesn’t count, right?” 

A quiet, satisfied noise left Misty’s nose. “I’m sure glad I’m marrying such a smart lady.” She put a hand on the small of Cordelia’s back. “It would’ve taken me a lot longer to come to that conclusion than it took you.” April followed them down the hall to their room. “What color do you want to wear? Nothing that could trip you up. Green?” 

“Green,” Cordelia confirmed, not because she liked green, but because she knew Misty liked green. “What about that green turtleneck and some slacks?” 

Misty hesitated. “Delia, I don’t know how to break this to you, but you don’t own a green turtleneck.” Dread pooled in the pit of Cordelia’s stomach. “I did think it was kinda odd that you were wearing that ugly Christmas sweater to meetings and stuff... Makes sense, you thought it was a turtleneck.”

“You  _ let me wear an ugly Christmas sweater to meetings? _ ” Cordelia repeated, her voice jumping up the octave. “Misty! Why didn’t you ever think to ask me?” 

“I thought you knew it was an ugly Christmas sweater!”

“You thought I would deliberately wear an ugly Christmas sweater to professional meetings? I’ve been representing us as an educational institution in front of state and national boards! No wonder they’ve got me jumping through so many hoops. They’ve got to think we’re completely off our rockers.”

Misty snickered. “Well, if they’re half-way decent educators, they’ll have taken enough classes to know better than to judge a  _ blind _ lady over what she’s wearing. But, c’mon, Delia, the thing has bells on it. How didn’t you know? It made you jingle like a kitty-cat collar.” 

She flushed.  _ She has a point. I always wondered why that turtleneck gave me tinnitus.  _ “I never really noticed. I was busy.” She sighed and took the turtleneck—the ugly Christmas sweater—out of the closet. “Let’s just throw this away before I forget that it’s not my business sweater. Just pick something out!” 

Poking around in the open closet with the doors wide open, Misty picked through. “What about your pretty summer dresses? I’ll wear one, too, so we’ll match. We’ve got a yellow polka dot one and a blue polka dot one.” Cordelia held out her hand to take it. The cloth fell out of her hand. “Alright, I’ll go downstairs and call a cab.”

“A cab? Why?” 

“Well, I’m gonna have to be blindfolded, aren’t I? So I can’t see you. I can't drive with a blindfold.” 

“You want to go through all of the admissions paperwork  _ blindfolded _ ? Couldn’t you just not look at me?”

“Not worth risking it. You’re used to being blind, you can help me figure it out!” Misty dipped her down into a kiss. “I’ll be right back. You need help getting April ready to go before I get blind?” 

It was silly. It was spontaneous. Whatever part of Cordelia was mildly annoyed at the inconvenience rapidly zipped away, replaced by mirth, humor at Misty’s antics and the unconcerned way she regarded her superstitions as casual fact. “I think I can handle April, babe.” She wrapped her arms around Misty, hugging her tightly, and she reached to kiss her once more. “When you see me the next time, we’ll be married.” 

“I know.” Misty’s voice was faint as she realized it. “I can’t wait to be your wife.” She kissed the crown of Cordelia’s head and slipped their hands apart, heading out of the room and down the stairs with her dress in tow. 

Cordelia rushed to prepare. She fumbled to suit up April with her harness and leash, and then she dressed herself in the modest summer dress and slipped into her flats,  _ praying _ they were the same color she remembered. She found her cane and left the bedroom. Standing at the mouth of the stairs, she called down, “Misty? Are you ready?” 

“How am I going to know when the cab gets here if I can’t see?” 

“This is ridiculous! I only say that because I love you! You’re ridiculous!” 

“I recognize your complaint, but I still have a perfectly valid question!” 

Cordelia laughed. She took a step forward and sat down on the top stair. “I’ll stay up here, and when you see the cab, you tell me to come downstairs, okay?” April sat beside her and reached to lick her face. Cordelia giggled. “Good girl, April. Good girl.” 

A few minutes passed. “Okay, he’s outside!” Cordelia stood and took April by the harness, and together, they drummed down the stairs and met Misty, who waited by the front door. “The cab is going to think we’re insane.” 

“The blind leading the blind,” Misty confirmed. Cordelia’s light criticism hadn’t changed her mind, so with the acknowledgment that Misty refused to budge on her conviction, Cordelia allowed Misty to take her arm and ordered April out of the house. 

Misty kept stumbling and tripping over the sidewalk.  _ Oh, this is going to take forever.  _ Cordelia smirked. It was atypical for Misty to lack confidence—it was amusing in a way, if dangerous in several others. But Misty could take off the blindfold if she had to. What could happen? Cordelia opened the door to the cab and clocked Misty in the face with it. “Ouch! Delia!” 

“Oh, god, Misty, I’m so sorry!” Cordelia fumbled for her hand. “This way, get into the car  _ this way _ .” She sidled into the seat. April settled down on the floorboards of the car, lying down across Cordelia’s feet, and Misty stumbled in after her, hitting her head on the roof of the car. 

The cab driver popped his gum. “What’s with the blindfold, miss?” 

Some part of Cordelia wanted to lie, but she couldn’t come up with anything more plausible than the truth, which Misty provided without second-guessing herself. “We’re going to the courthouse to get married, but I can’t see the bride before the wedding!” The man’s mouth opened and closed and then opened again, sort of hanging there in the air, like he had a feeling to express but didn’t have the ability to put it to words. “We’ve got two good eyes between the three of us.” 

“And they both belong to the dog?” the man asked, and Misty hummed along enthusiastically. None of this had robbed her of her zeal for life—if anything, the silliness had added to it. Cordelia giggled, shaking her head, leaning over to rest her cheek on Misty’s shoulder. “Good luck to the two of you, then. Congratulations.” He shifted the car into the gear and pulled back onto the street. 

“We forgot the rings,” Misty said after a minute of silence. 

“Eh, we’ll get them when we get home. We might lose them, since neither of us can see right now.” 

“Well, only one of us can see usually.”

“And our track record of keeping up with things is not the best,” Cordelia pointed out. Misty acquiesced with a smile and kissed the crown of her head.  _ She’s going to be my wife. _ Cordelia felt sick inside—a good kind of nervous, anticipatory sick. Why had they been putting this off for so long? They could’ve done this ages ago! She was ready from the moment Misty had mentioned them having a wedding together; she had known that. Why had she ever gotten hung up on the formalities? She had spent enough of her life doing things  _ right _ . Doing things  _ right _ had lost her Misty once. Cordelia had learned enough that following the rules often led her astray. Misty had taught her a lot of things. One of them: Rules were made to be broken. “Are you ready for this?” she whispered into Misty’s ear. 

Stringing a warm arm around her neck, Misty’s voice cooed right against auricle of her ear. “I’ve been ready from the moment I woke up in your arms, duckweed.” Chills trickled up Cordelia’s spine. She closed her eyes, relishing in the moment.  _ I may never see your face again, but I feel your love every moment we’re together, and that will last me a thousand lifetimes over.  _ “Do we have to say vows or anything?” 

“I dunno. I guess we’ll find out when we get in there.” 

“What if I need to prepare?”

“I don’t think you need to prepare,” Cordelia teased gently. 

The cab pulled off in front of the courthouse. “Congratulations, ladies. Do you need help getting up the steps?” 

“No, thank you, sir.” Cordelia paid him, hoping the tip was generous enough, and she opened the door and slid out onto the sidewalk, April ready to work at her side. Misty tumbled out after her, nearly falling down, but Cordelia caught her by the elbow. “Okay, clumsy.”

“I’m  _ not _ clumsy.”

“Right. Your middle name is Grace, that’s why you conked yourself in the head getting in  _ and _ getting out,” Cordelia teased. She gave Misty her arm. “Let me tease. I’m rarely the more mobile of the two of us.”  _ Maybe these stairs aren’t such a good idea. _ Misty clearly was not the best at judging distance without her eyes—why should she be? She wasn’t blind, and she didn’t exactly have a reason to regularly blindfold herself and practice for this insane wedding venture. “Let me help you.” Unlike Misty, Cordelia was  _ quite _ practiced at the stairs, and with April’s help, she could go slowly and reach the top safely. “Forward up.” April started up the stairs, and the pressure guided Cordelia. “One step at a time. Stop trying to rush.” 

“This is really hard.” 

Cordelia laughed. “I  _ know _ .” She gave Misty’s arm a gentle tug. “Are you okay?” Each step caused Misty to wobble, but she didn’t topple over. “It’s a lot easier with April.”

Misty gave a wheezy, breathless laugh, too nervous from the stairs directly beneath her to concentrate on anything else. At a platform, she sighed. “Was that it?”

“No, babe, there’s a whole flight left. That was halfway, though.” April kept going, and they proceeded to the top, Misty stumbling more than once. At the top, Cordelia gave a whimsical laugh. “I bet you’re glad you get to take that blindfold off for the way back down.” 

“I’ll never complain about cutting a sandwich for you again.”

“You never did in the first place.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Taking care of my duckweed is something I enjoy.” Misty walked directly into the divider between the doors. “Jesus Christ, this world is a death trap.” Cordelia laughed again.  _ I didn’t have this much fun at my first wedding, _ she realized, and it made her want to laugh more, that Misty with all of her free silliness blew away a wedding that had taken thousands of dollars to put together. “Which way?”

Finding the correct floor was half the battle, but fortunately, the courthouse had elevators. Cordelia held fast to Misty, afraid they’d get separated. They came out and got into a line leading up to a desk. “What’s with the blindfold?” asked a no-nonsense clerk, pushing some paperwork at them. She put her thumb next to the X for Cordelia to sign her name. “What kind of shenanigans are you trying to pull?” 

“No shenanigans, ma’am. I can’t see the bride before the wedding.”

The clerk was silent, waiting for a punchline, but there wasn’t one. She took a deep breath and put her finger beside the X for Misty, too. “That’s a first for me,” she muttered under her breath, “even for crazytown.” Misty and Cordelia elected to ignore her as they signed. “Get in line for the chapel down the hall.” 

“Thank you, ma’am.”

It was another line. Cordelia couldn’t hold still; she was buzzing. “I can’t believe we’re really doing this.”

“Do you not want to do this?” Misty asked.

“More than anything,” Cordelia promised. “It’s so surreal—just an hour ago, I was miserable thinking we were  _ never _ going to have time to get married! And now here we are.”

“You said it was time to be more spontaneous.” 

Cordelia laughed. “The girls are going to tell us we’re crazy.”

“Oh, they’re going to be  _ furious. _ ” Misty squeezed Cordelia’s hand. “Zoe and Queenie were waiting for me to take them shopping for bridesmaid dresses. But they hadn’t bought anything yet, so they ought to be glad, right?” 

Shaking her head, Cordelia agreed. “Yeah… Right.” 

The chapel doors swung open, and the line moved up ahead, the two of them clinging to each other a few couples back from the large wooden doors. “They’re moving them out fast,” Misty observed. “Like an assembly line. Just putting marriages together. Bam, splat, you get a wedding, and  _ you _ get a wedding, and  _ you _ get a wedding!” 

Trying to disguise her grin, Cordelia bent her head forward toward the ground. “You’re going to make me laugh!” Were people staring at them? She didn’t know, couldn’t know, because Misty couldn’t see, either. As far as she was concerned, it was just the two of them in this huge, dark world, and April was their lighthouse, her tail wagging slowly back and forth. “I love you, Misty. Even if you are silly and ridiculous.”

“You love me  _ because _ I’m silly and ridiculous.” 

“Maybe that’s it.” 

It was, indeed, like an assembly line, as couples came and went, and soon enough, Misty and Cordelia shuffled into the chapel after the officiant. “Are you meant to be blindfolded?” he asked, and Cordelia bit her lip to keep from laughing. 

“I’m not allowed to see the bride before the wedding.” To her credit, Misty didn’t get impatient at explaining it over and over; she knew nobody else would understand at first glance that she had her own superstitious rules about their wedding. “But I’ll be able to take it off in a minute here, right?” 

The man’s smile was evident in his voice. “Well, you might’ve just made my day.” He cleared his throat. “Yes. You actually can take it off now, if you like.” 

Misty did so, the fabric slipping off of her face, and she balled it up into her fist. She tremored on the spot. “You’re so beautiful, Delia,” she whispered, and Cordelia’s whole face grew warm. 

The man stood back. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Cordelia Goode and Misty Day in holy matrimony.” He had the words memorized, barely glancing down at the podium before him. “Miss Day, if you’ll repeat after me.” Misty gnawed at the bit, straightening at the sound of her own name, and she repeated his words by rote, not too fast nor too slow. 

“I, Misty Day, take thee, Cordelia Goode, as my wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, til death do us part; and thereto, I pledge myself to you.” 

They were such familiar words, ones Cordelia had heard dozens of times on the television and in weddings. Someone else might have heard them as empty words, but Cordelia didn’t; from Misty, all of her heart and her magic flowing into those words, Cordelia had never felt fuller. “Miss Goode?”

She felt like a little girl trying to recite the pledge of allegiance in front of the class as she repeated the words said aloud by the officiant. “I, Cordelia Goode, take thee, Misty Day, as my wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish; and thereto, I pledge myself to you.” 

She didn’t stumble over any words, to her own surprise. Misty sniffled, and Cordelia realized she was crying. Her own eyes burned, but crying hurt too much for her to allow it of herself here. 

“Misty Day, do you take Cordelia Goode to be your lawful wedded wife?”

Her voice was thick with emotion. A slight shiver was attached to her two, simple words, words which had never made Cordelia so happy before in her life. “I do.”

“Cordelia Goode, do you take Misty Day to be your lawful wedded wife?” 

Cordelia cleared her throat. She suddenly had cottonmouth. “I do.” She sounded hoarse. 

“Then, by the power vested in me by the state of Louisiana, I witness and affirm your union of love and now pronounce you wife and wife. You may kiss the bride.” Misty reached for her, guiding her into her arms. She was, once again, Cordelia’s eyes, just as she was meant to be. Their lips connected, and Cordelia made a happy, soft sound as she sank against Misty’s body, wholly supported hers. 

Their kiss severed. Misty gave a throaty chuckle. “Ready to go home, Mrs. Day?” 

Cordelia blinked. “Did we decide on your last name?” 

“I was going to combine them, but I decided Mrs. Gay was a little too forward even for us.” Cordelia’s laughter floated them all the way out of the courthouse. 


End file.
